Mother, I and God

Mother is sleepwalking her way through the strenuous preparations of rituals that mark one of the great Hindu festivals, Holi. I, at my cynical best, ask her why.

Mother: Someday I'm going to gift to you a book about the significance of festivals.

Me: I doubt if that kind of book exists.

Mother: Then I'll write it myself and then dedicate it to you.

I won't be surprised if she actually does it. My mother's the feisty kind. In fact, had she been born only a couple of decades later, she would have been quite the rebel, albeit with a cause. She's also the modern woman with a different set of goals, yet with age old inspirations and values. She's a complete enthusiast, a person who regularly challenges assumptions and directs discussions. Yet she took her own time to come to terms with her son's agnosticism and his coming out of the ritualistic and religious closet. The process was, as I imagine, started off in denial, graduated to bargaining and rested finally in acceptance.

Me: Mother, why does all this have to happen to us? What have we done wrong?

Mother: God must have an ulterior motive.

Me: I don't get it. What motive could it be?

Mother: Don't worry. It'll all be alright. :)

Denial. Mother's voice was more comforting than the words at that age. There was no rational explanation of us getting the bad share of things that happen to people. Now that I think of it, it was nothing but a random event. Any other argument is only consolation; the best of which is that no one else could have handled it - courtesy, Mother. Hence, God chose us.

Me: Mother, where is your God when people die for no fault of theirs? What's the deal with Him when airplanes turn up at American towers?

Mother: What do you mean 'my God'? Anyway, God will take care of every perpetrator of violence. No one is excepted from karma.

Me: Okay. So should we just leave them alone if we know they're going to be dealt with?

Mother: Offo. Of course we shouldn't leave them - punish them in the severest manner. But He has his own system of justice which cannot be tampered with.

Bargaining. Mom is aware of my emerging political and social principles. She wouldn't dare compromise on them, because she knows they're on track. She'll give or take a few, and compromise on some beliefs in exchange for others.

Me: Okay, I think it's time I shrugged off some newly learnt logic on you, Mother.

Mother: Bas baat karwa lo jitni karwa sakte ho.

Me: Haan, so, how can you say God exists because there is no evidence of Him not existing. Similarly, I cannot say God doesn't exist because there is no evidence of Him existing.

Mother: What? Fine, fine, you're right.

Me: No, no. I won't accept victory so easy. So, if His non-existence is highly probably, wouldn't we save some lunacy by not doing all this Hol(i/y)-giri?

Mother: Meri marzi. I'll do it if I want to. And you will participate because your Mother has invested a lot of time and effort in it. You won't do anything in your time, will you? I tell you (to Father), by his time, there won't be any festival or riti-riwaaz.

Acceptance.

Sounds of Silence

When hymns that ring in the midst
Of silence, entwined betwixt
Words to live by profound,
Crystal thought to precede the sound
Are one with faith sublime,
The Prophecy flows divine.
Thus is defined sin and purgatory;
Of penance and misery stories told,
When lightning strikes and thunder howls,
Heroes emerge and myths unfold.
Though it intrigues me in wake today,
That in my mind, not heart,
Reside those hymns and words, yet
Thoughtful silence begets Art.